


In Possession: T'Pira Chronicles II

by wildair7



Series: The T'Pira Chronicles [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildair7/pseuds/wildair7
Summary: Vera Hopton, now transferred to The Enterprise, sees her cousin and ex-husband for the first time in over a decade, creating friction in her life, only to be invaded by an alien species called the Spraiter, whose forms incorporate with those of Vera, Spock, James Kirk, and Uhura.





	In Possession: T'Pira Chronicles II

In Possession

 

 

Personal log of Vera Hopton, Lieutenant Commander aboard the _Reliant._

_Stardate: Seventy-six, oh-six, point two-six._

_At the recommendation of my current counselor, who believes recording my daily actions and thoughts thereon will help me deal with emotional issues, I do this only under duress. This date finds me quite alone—an unusual state. For, although seldom at a lack for companionship, today is the exception. Why am I alone? It seems when one contracts an infectious disease, one is quarantined, although my disease remains undiagnosed. Precautions have been deemed necessary, however, due to my transfer in three days to_ The Enterprise.

_Stardate: Seventy-six, oh-six, point two-three:_

_At last, I am released to my own cognizance. As I thought, nothing was amiss with my health—merely a lab error—another instance which proves the inferiority of computers to man, which I’ve always maintained with my more mechanically-oriented acquaintances on Vulcan._

_Dinner tonight with Captain Lesthina. Damn, I hope he doesn’t try anything._

_Stardate: Seventy-six, oh-six, point two-four._

_My last day on_ The Reliant. _No one seems greatly relieved, so I must deduce my presence will be somewhat missed. It will be good to see at last two friends there._

Uhura turned and addressed the captain of _The Enterprise._ “Lieutenant Commander Hopton now beaming aboard, sir.”

     “Very well.” James T. Kirk rose to leave, speaking to his First Officer, as he headed toward the turbo lift, “Spock, take the com, will you?”

     Once he entered the transporter room, Kirk beheld the figure of a shapely young woman materializing, and the transport completed, he walked toward her, his hand held out in greeting. As she stepped off the platform, accepting it, Kirk whistled.

     “Vera, you haven’t changed a bit.”

     “Neither have you, Jim.”

     James Kirk admired the still youthful body of the alien-born woman in silence. Her hair still the blackest of blacks without a taint of blue, her eyes retained the same sparkling, feline golden-brown he remembered. Their friendship went back many years, all the way to his last months at Starfleet Academy on Earth. Those had been happy ones for him…very happy.

    He took her arm and escorted her to the turbo lift. “Next stop the Bridge, Vera.” He turned to gaze upon her, proudly. “I want you to meet the rest of the officers on duty, especially my second in command and Science Officer. He’s also Vulcan, half actually, his mother's an Earthwoman.”

      Vera studied Kirk’s face intently, examining it for any signs of caution. There weren’t any. He didn’t have the slightest idea what connection any of the officers here bore to herself, and since Leonard McCoy never mentioned in his correspondence the name of the Vulcan Science Officer here, she couldn’t be certain of his identity.

     “Hmm,” she responded, “perhaps I know him.”

     “You’ve probably heard of him. He’s considered the finest First Office in the Fleet. His name is Spock…”

     Vera barely heard the rest, too shocked at the name of her cousin to register Kirk’s remaining words, then heard, “Vera, you’ve gone pale as a sheet. Are you all right?”

     Recovering her composure, Vera looked up at him. “Yes, fine, Jim.”

     As the turbo lift stopped at the Bridge, the Captain guided the new Assistant Science Officer through the doors and onto the elevated area around the command consoles. Spock had come around the command chair to greet them but hesitated slightly, almost imperceptible, when he noticed his commander’s companion.

     Vera raised her hand in Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Spock.”

     Her cousin, once more seeming in complete control, raised his hand and answered, “Live long and prosper, T’Pira.”

     Kirk looked at Vera and then at his second in command, startled, most likely having forgotten she also had a Vulcan name, Vera surmised.

     “You two know each other?” he asked, a slight smile curving his lips.

     Vera regarded both Kirk and Spock’s reaction with an inward smile of her own. After an impregnable silence, Spock spoke. “Yes, Captain, T’Pira is my cousin and foster child of my parents.”

     “I see,” Kirk replied, appearing a bit bemused.

     In his mind, Vera sensed a relief, thinking his future plans for her wouldn’t be met with resistance from Spock. He then turned Vera to be introduced first to Uhura, then Chekov and Sulu, who she surprised by greeting them each in their native language. As for Spock, she noticed he’d returned to his Science station, although caught his furtive glimpses directed toward her and Jim.

 

     Inside, Spock boiled with controlled jealousy, which he failed to recognize, as he’d never experienced it before. T’Pira’s presence made him uneasy in the extreme, and he wondered how a Vulcan woman could behave so shamelessly? He even wished she and his captain would leave the Bridge, so the men would stop gawking at her. And he also wished he had never requested an assistant.

     At last, Kirk left with the woman beside him, but some time elapsed before the male members of the crew had returned to normal.

     _Disruptive female!_ Thought Spock to himself, as he resumed the Command Chair.

 

     When Kirk and Vera entered her quarters, he sat in the room’s single chair and watched her unpack, then grinned broadly and coughed, calling attention to himself.

     “So, you and Spock are cousins. Guess he’s like a brother to you, huh?”

     Vera hesitated before she answered, unemotionally. “Yes.”

     Kirk walked up behind her, caressing her shoulder. “You’ve known all along I could never forget you, haven’t you?”

     She turned to face him. “And you still love me?”

     Jim laughed. “Yes, I still love you.”

     Vera smiled the same slight smile he remembered from those earlier years. “I thought so, the minute you met me in the Transporter Room.”

     He touched her cheek. “You and your telepathy. You must think I’ve been awfully foolish.”

     “No, Jim. Never,” she said, touching his face with her pale hand. “But I was surprised you still felt that way after all these years.”  She paused. “Do I still love you? I felt quite close to you back then, since you were there when I needed someone, and seriously doubt I could have made it through those months without your support. My control was shattered completely.”  She paused, again, searching his eyes. “Jim, I don’t know if I ever loved you the way you did me. All I know is I’m very, very fond of you and want you to be happy.”

     “Then make me happy, now.” He put his arms around her and began kissing her passionately.

     Vera struggled, and he drew away momentarily.

     “You can’t fool me with your cool Vulcan exterior, Vera. You forget I’m one man who knows what human fire burns under that icy façade.”

     He resumed the kiss, holding her tighter. Still, she resisted, but he knew she could break his hold on her, if she really wished, being much stronger, due to her Vulcan training and raised in the high Vulcan gravity. Gradually, she did relax and returned his kiss, encircling him with her arms.

     At that exact moment, Spock entered the room. “Captain, the—”

    He stopped, taking in the scene, finding it hard to believe even his cousin could be taken in by James Kirk’s charm.

     Jim turned to face Spock, his arm remaining about the waist of an astonished Vera. “What is it, Spock? Nothing too important, I hope. I did have further plans of…discussion with my…ex-wife.” He smiled at Vera who continued staring blankly at the Vulcan.

     The First Officer raised a black, slanted eyebrow. “Ex-wife?”

     “Yes, Spock. Vera and I were married fifteen years ago and, unfortunately ended it fourteen months later, an action I now regret deeply.”

     “Pardon me, Captain. I was unaware either you or my cousin had ever been married, much less to each other. It is quite…surprising. I am afraid, however, there is a matter on the Bridge which does require your presence.”

     “All right, Spock.” Kirk released Vera with great reluctance but gave her a farewell kiss and began to leave the room. “Coming, Spock?”

     “No, I am off duty,” he said, still staring at the newly arrived Lt. Cmdr.

     “Yes,” said Kirk, “I’d forgotten the time. You two must have a great deal to discuss. See you later then.” He left, jauntily whistling down the corridor.

 

     With James Kirk gone, Spock turned to Vera. “Yes, we do have much to discuss, do we not, ‘Vera.’” He advanced toward her, meaning to continue, but she turned away and resumed her unpacking.

     “Really, Cousin? It has been many years since we had anything in common, much less spoken or exchanged correspondence. The last time I saw you was—”

     “Fifteen years ago, in three months,” supplied Spock.

     “Hmm, that long?”

     “Do not play your Human games with me, T’Pira. Your memory is as good as mine, probably better. You remember my visit to Earth then, as vividly as I.”

     She turned, facing him, innocently. “Oh, yes. I do recall your staying at my apartment during your furlough. As I remember, we had a most pleasant visit but fail to see much to discuss regarding that time.”

     “Pleasant! How can you call it pleasant?” He crossed the room and gripped her arms firmly. “How long after my visit did you marry James Kirk?”

     She glared at him stonily, golden eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you seriously thinking of using a mind probe if I do not answer?”

     “I am, and you know you cannot prevent me.”

     Shaking off his hands, she answered, “Whatever happened to your Vulcan honor regarding request for a mind probe?”

     “That does not apply to us, although I believe you will cooperate without it, will you not? Now I am here, you will remember who and what you are. I repeat—”

     “Very well! I married Jim three months after you returned to your ship. Not once did I hear from you during that time and never expected to. After all, you were ‘married’ to T’Pring and—”

     “My marriage to T’Pring was annulled a year ago.”

     “Yes,” she retaliated, “but it was not through you I learned, but our mother.”

     “Why were you waiting to hear from me? You should have accepted what happened then as a necessary part of being a female Vulcan. Surely, you did not expect a commitment. You knew; you understood. We both did!”

     “Oh, yes, I understood! Which is why I agreed to marry Jim.”

     “Why did you really marry him, T’Pira?”

     She met Spock’s eyes, her own calm and expressionless. “Because I was pregnant…with your child.”

     Stunned, Spock released her and lowered his head momentarily then, composed, returned his eyes to her. “We have a child?”

     She exhaled audibly. “No. He was stillborn.” Her lip trembled slightly, as she diverted her gaze from his.

     Still stunned, Spock crossed to the desk, facing away from his cousin. His voice, alone, betrayed the emotion he couldn’t deny. “I had no idea.”

     Vera started to approach him then stopped. “Try to forget, Spock. I have. It never meant anything to me.”

     Without warning, Spock whirled, facing her, again, a cold look of disbelief crossing his features. “Never meant anything?”

     “How could it? You know Starfleet regulations as well as I. If I had kept the child, if it had been born at full term, I would be kicked out of the Academy, being unmarried. All along, I planned to give it up for adoption to a deserving couple. And yes, I felt nothing for it or for you, neither have I felt remorse over its death. My only regret is putting the burden on Jim, even though he knew the baby wasn’t his.”

     “You could have told me. I would have provided for you and the child.”

     “How, by sending me off somewhere and never bothering to see either of us til your next _pon farr_ or whatever other time you afforded us? No thank you. Oh, and, where were you? Did you ever send me a single word in all these years? No! Were you too ashamed, or did you simply not give a damn about what consequences you may have left behind? As far as I’m concerned, you can take your sanctimonious ideas and stuff them up your stiff backside, because I want nothing more to do with a pompous prick like yourself and pity the poor woman you marry, when she realizes you don’t give a damn about her or anyone but yourself. Why, you didn’t even have the decency to inform me you wouldn’t show up that year, time, and place we agreed to before you left me. How dare you assume to care anything about me.”

     Spock had no further words and could only stare at her in disbelief as she unleased the venom she’d obviously stored unvented for the last fifteen years. When he managed to bring his stifled emotions under further control, he fixed her with his cold eyes and said, “You are to report to the lab in Sick Bay in thirty minutes for your physical.” He left abruptly without looking back.

 

     Once in Sick Bay, Vera rapped lightly on the wall outside McCoy’s office. An irritated chief surgeon came around the corner in a huff, then seeing who stood there, broke into a grin.

     “Vera, ‘bout time you got here. You’ve been aboard over an hour.”

     “Save your monster act for the other staff members, Leonard. You fail to threaten me.”

     McCoy’s smile broadened. “Yeah, I remember. Come on inside so we can talk without interruption.” He ushered her into his office and made sure the door was closed and locked, insuring their privacy.

     Once they were seated, facing each other, he got down to business. “See Spock?”

     Vera met his steel blue eyes. “Yes, both publicly and privately. You might say, we ‘had it out.’”

     “You told him, then, about the baby?”

     She nodded in reply.

     “How did he take it?”

     “You know him well enough by now to answer that.”

     “True. But remember, I wrote you about our Vulcan First Officer.”

     “But never mentioned his name,” she said, leaning forward accusingly. “I shouldn’t have been surprised it was him, but despite these years didn’t stop to think I would see him again, much less here.”

     “If I’d known you were being transferred here, earlier, I could have warned you, but…” McCoy sighed, shrugging.

     “Well, what’s done is done.”

     “Come find me and talk whenever you want, sweetie. As for that physical, you just had one before leaving _The Reliant_ , so I see not need for another one. See you later then,” and he unlocked the door from his desk console, and she left.

 

_Stardate Seventy-six-oh-six, point two-five._

_Vera Hopton, Personal Log_

_First day on_ Enterprise. _Many old friends. Well, what else could one call an old ex-husband? Another old mentor, Dr. Leonard McCoy is ship’s surgeon. Besides Jim, it seems my cousin, my only cousin, at that, is First Officer here. What a small but vast sector of space we occupy. Old memories, confrontation, reinforced control. Tomorrow must be better, for it can’t be worse._

The recorder switched off, Vera reflected on that day’s events and particularly the brash words she’d spoken to Spock. Disbelief and anger had registered on his usually calm face. Why, she couldn’t understand. Was it her accusations or the tone in which they’d been delivered? True, he would consider such a lengthy outburst to be un-Vulcan and contrary to her training, but the truth was, she didn’t care anymore. All these feelings had built up steadily over the last fifteen years, boiling inside her heart and mind to the point, when confronted finally with his presence, they erupted in full fury. What did he expect? He knew how, as a child, she spoke without thinking of the effect of her words, so why would she be any different now—not that she’d not rehearsed what she would say countless times inside her brain should the opportunity arise.

     Her actions resolved, she admitted the outburst hadn’t left her mind any more tranquil, regarding him. She still hated him, still felt he’d betrayed her, and shown his lack of respect either for their kinship or former affection for each other. And yet, the future remained.

     Who would T’Pau choose as her mate? Could she accept _any_ Vulcan male as her husband? Could she disavow her loyalty to Vulcan and refuse the Matriarchy and the man chosen by T’Pau?

     Tlasus had said, he would never share her with any man, and Vera realized she couldn’t share him with another woman. So where did that leave matters between them? She must decide whether what she wanted bore more importance than what duty required. But could she?

     Two years had morphed into the past since that last fateful meeting between them, when he’d given her the ultimatum. Ten years since they first met, she wondered if they would ever be together completely.

     The last thing she’d unpacked that day was the fur-lined cloak he left behind, and now, lying in bed ready for sleep, it enfolded her, the fluffy lengths of hair, which even after these years continued to bear his scent, caressing her cheek. Only thus could she sleep, only thus could her restless mind be subdued, as thoughts of him came to the fore of her brain: his touch; his voice; the softness of his lips on hers; and the gentle strength of his arms as they held her close.

 

     Sometime during the night, she awoke, hearing his deep voice in her ear and the sensation of his hand tracing the curves of her now bared side.

     “Tlasus?”

     “Yes, my love. Did you think I could stay away?” he said, before kissing her. “Did you think I have not longed to lie with you like this during all our time apart?”

      “Oh, Tlasus! I have missed you so much. Only you do I want, now and forever. Only you. I swear it!”

      “Hush, now. I have done much reading during my years on the Frontier and would practice what I learned.”

     “Read what?” she asked, slipping her arms behind his neck and bringing his head closer for another kiss.  

     “When I left you on Methias, I found myself before a bookseller. Curiosity getting the better of me, I walked in and looked about. The vendor came to me and asked, if I sought a book on a certain subject. Thinking about it, I said, ‘I would know more of this emotion called love.’

     “’Ah,’ said he. ‘What you want is not a book of theory or science but one which explores all the inner reactions involved with love. Let me show you.’ Upon that, he directed me to a full bookcase full of books bound in slick heavy paper, and as I ran my fingers along the heavily creased spines on each shelf, he said, ‘herein is what you seek and what every man should read to know the workings of the female mind and the way she can be pleased both in and out of bed.’

     “Well, I then did something quite impulsive and bought the entire case. You should have seen the stares I received on carting the complete collection aboard the Vulcan cargo ship!”

     “I can imagine,” Vera replied. “So, what did you learn?”

     “Let me demonstrate.”

     What followed consisted of more than a man would gather from reading a run-of-the-mill romantic novel—ones she knew quite well from Amanda’s fondness of the genre and passed them along when she was done. Through them, Vera had grown increasingly romantic about love, but what Tlasus did to her body now with his fingers and mouth were more derived from what were called erotic novels, with highly graphic sex scenes.

     “Is this a dream?” she asked when they held each other afterwards.

     “Hmm,” was all he said, and then she slept more peacefully than she had in many years.

 

     The next morning, she found her bed empty and the fur-lined cloak wrapped about her the same as when she went to bed. Only one thing differed. Underneath its softness she lay completely nude.

 _Had it been a dream?_ She wondered? _If so, how did I undress herself in sleep?_ _Why do I ache between my legs if I’ve not had sex?_

     More confused than ever, she rose and slipped into her blue Science uniform and made her way down the bustling corridors to the officers’ mess for breakfast.

  

_Stardate Seventy-six-oh-six, point two-six. Personal log:_

_The First Officer of this vessel seems determined to make my life as miserable as possible. Never, since receiving my medical commission have I been forced to perform such menial tasks or to endure such humiliation. Naturally, I haven’t revealed my dissatisfaction to said Officer. Leonard is sympathetic but can do nothing. Jim? Well, complaining to him would be jumping over the chain of command._

     Several days later, at her Scanner Station on the Bridge, Vera detected an unusual blimp on the screen and reported them to James Kirk.

     “Captain,” added Uhura, “I’m receiving several pips on low frequency, which seem to correspond with Commander Hopton’s sensor reading.”

      Kirk looked concerned but knew there could be a simple explanation for even the most unusual occurrence in space. The obvious tension between his First Officer, Spock, and Vera, or, as Spock continued to address her—T’Pira—was but one example. However, he’d not discovered the cause for their uneasy relationship. His own with Vera was easy although not exactly as intimate as he’d hoped for after her first day aboard.

     “Continue monitoring, Lieutenant,” he said, after forcing his way out of the disturbing musings.

     Several more minutes passed until the blimps and pips both disappeared, simultaneously.

     “They have vanished, Captain,” confirmed Vera.

    “Same here, sir,” the communications officer confirmed, seeming relieved but confused.

     Kirk glanced at the ship’s chronometer on the Navigator’s console, where a new Ensign sat, and noted only a few minutes remained until the next shift change.

     “Any ideas as to the causes, Miss Hopton?”

     “No, sir, but I’ll continue investigating, and Mister Chekov can continue when I go off duty.”

     As soon as she finished speaking, Chekov entered the Bridge and relieved Vera at the Science Station.

 

     Thus relieved, Vera entered the turbo lift, weary from the last twelve hours. Leaving the lift on Deck Five, she passed Spock, who vaguely acknowledged her presence by diverting his eyes and then continued down the corridor, taking her place in the lift.

     As he’d passed, Vera felt her jaw setting against the indignity of the damn man’s deliberate affront to her existence. Ever since her first day here, he’d ignored her. They’d spoken privately only that once, and since then not even exchanged pleasantries. They worked separate shifts, which she discovered later had been arranged by her cousin, and when they were off duty at the same time, Spock avoided her.

     He would leave if she entered a room, and when escape was impossible, stayed as far from her person as he could. The few words he did speak to her in the line of duty often came out curt and often rude, not at all his usual emotionless, rational self.

    Now in her quarters, Vera removed the drop cloth from her latest painting, resting on the easel. Then, donning her artist’s smock, took up a paintbrush, gently caressing the wet pain to the lips of Spock’s portrait which she intended as an anniversary gift for her foster parents. After a few strokes, she threw the brush down, angry with herself and angry with Spock’s bullheadedness. Dropping the brush into the container of cleaning solution, she replaced the drop cloth and removed the smock, tossing it into a corner.

     As she began to remove her uniform, she became dizzy and reached out her hand to steady herself. Everything around her then faded to blackness. Her grip on the nearby chair loosened, and when her legs failed to support her weight any longer, she fell to the floor .

     After a few minutes, her unconscious boy began to writhe, twisting tortuously. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, searched the room rapidly, and then rested, narrowing and glittering with madness as the alien being within realized her victory.

     The body of Vera rose and continued to undress, replacing the blue Science uniform with a pale-yellow gown of sheerest gauze. Once this being crossed the room to examine Vera’s collection of paintings, a smile, more of a sneer, possessed the lips and widened, becoming a laugh which increased in tremor and strength until it ended in a demonic finale.

     Hands which belonged to the physical body of a woman named Vera touched her temples, eyes closed in concentration, and an alien voice hissed between her lips.

     “Come, fellow Spraiters. Now is the place.”

     Within the room, the atmosphere vibrated with an energy emitted by the invisible lifeforms, which became gradually recognizable as faint, flowing blurs.

    “Have you chosen the forms we will incorporate, Maab?” came a masculine voice from one of these.

     “Maab-Vera threw off the cover of Spock’s portrait. “I have scanned the personnel aboard. You, Baar, will inhabit the body of this one. You, Taal, the form of the male known as Sulu; and you, Saat, the female Uhura. Kraal will possess the one known as James Kirk, and you, Saal, that of the physician, McCoy.”

     “How long must we inhabit these inferior forms, Queen Maab?” hissed one of the Spraiters, his glowing blue shape throbbing rhythmically with the words.

     “Two of their months; and then we shall return when the offspring are born to claim our own.” She replaced the cloth covering Spock’s portrait. “Go now and incorporate gently to avoid detection.”

     “I was to be allowed to reproduce this time, Maab,” hissed a faintly-tinged yellow blur.

     “Next time, Kraal. Baar is my consort. He comes first. It is the way of our people. The form, James Kirk, is the most important person aboard this vessel. Your corporation of him is vital to our continuance.

     On the Bridge, Spock felt a fleeting sense of grogginess as he occupied the command chair then realized he was not alone in his body. Whenever he spoke, he lacked control of his voice and the words were not always of his choosing.

     Sulu turned and regarded the First Officer, a sneer curling his lips, and smiled involuntarily in acknowledgement before returning his attention to the helm.

     Now, the form of Kirk entered the command center of _The Enterprise_ and came to the side of the command chair.

     “Spock, from this time forward, you and Commander Hopton shall share the same shift. Mr. Chekov,” he said turning his attention to the Russian navigator, “you will take Miss Hopton’s regular shift. Spock, you are relieved of command for the next eight hours.”

    

      When the First Officer left the lift on the officer’s deck, he found himself passing up his own quarters and stopping in front of the door of Vera’s. His hand reached out and knocked on her door. It opened, and saw Vera standing there, devouring him wantonly with her golden eyes and smiling in the same manner as Sulu just moments before.

     Unwillingly, his hand stretched out to touch the flesh he’d forbidden himself to desire. Then Vera was in his arms, and he embraced her fiercely, the heat of her warm body arousing him without his control…but not without a physical hunger of his own.

 

     Days later, as Scotty made his way to his own quarters, he happened to glance through the open door of the Captain’s residence. There, the commanding officer was engaged in a very heated argument with the Assistant Science Officer, and she argued back…most peculiar…although he’d not been close enough to understand the words nor subject of their disagreement. By now, everyone aboard knew the past relationship of James Kirk and Vera Hopton, so he assumed that was the topic of their disagreement.

     More strange things met his eyes when he left his quarters and entered Deck Five Recreation Room, where he encountered Lt. Sulu kissing Lt. Uhura. Fortunately, he escaped before they noticed his presence, with his mind only mildly surprised. The two Bridge officers had been close for many years, as were all the veteran members of this starship, but he never knew they were that close. This made him think back to the argument between his captain and the Assistant Science Officer.

     He had never heard her raise her voice, and stranger still was Spock’s complimentary behavior toward her…almost affectionate in tone. Maybe this odd behavior had a logical explanation, or perhaps it was his vivid imagination run amuck. But, no, he never imagined those recent scenes. Perhaps Dr. McCoy would know the answer.

 

     When Scotty entered Sick Bay, he discovered the good doctor running some lab scans. At least that was normal behavior. He approached McCoy and informed him of his presence.

     “Doctor McCoy?”

     “What’s on your mind, Mr. Scott?”

     “It’s the Captain, as well as Mister Spock, Miss Hopton, Lieutenant Sulu, and Lieutenant Uhura, sir. They’re all actin’ most peculiar. Have ye noticed?”

     McCoy’s blue eyes went blank then began to glitter as the alien Saal regained control of the doctor’s mind. “No, can’t say as I have. They’re all just feeling the effects of spring. What’s wrong with a little romance in a person’s life. If you ask me, we could all use more of it.” And with those last words, he looked lustfully off in Nurse Chapel’s direction.

     “Sorry to have bothered you, Doctor,” said Scotty, leaving. “Guess I was over-reacting.”

     “Sure, sure,” the doctor replied, waving it off as he continued staring at Christine.

     Scotty left Sick Bay more confused than ever. He’d never mentioned romantic behavior to McCoy, so…

 

     On his return to the Bridge, Scott witnessed an intimate embrace between Spock and Lt. Comdr. Hopton. Spock held his cousin quite close and kissed her neck with abandoned passion. More surprising, was they both seemed to enjoy it and were ignored completely by both Sulu and Uhura, who, for once, seemed intent on their own duties. In fact, no one seemed to notice Scotty’s arrival.

     He assumed his station, bemused. The Captain entered, looked at the Vulcans in disgust and verbally relieved them of duty, whereupon they departed, their arms about each other’s waists. Once they were gone, Scott approached Kirk.

     “Sir, how can you allow such behavior on the Bridge?”

    “No one asked for your opinion, Mister Scott; and Spock and Miss Hopton’s lives are their own business. You will kindly not interfere.”

     “Yes, Captain. Forgive my intrusion.”

 

     During the next shift, after Scotty had taken command, he took advantage to assign Security personnel to maintain surveillance on the five officers and Dr. McCoy, to the extent of bugging their quarters, if they deemed that course necessary.

     At that moment elsewhere on the ship, Krall-Kirk entered Sick Bay. “Bones, I need something for a headache.”

     “Sure, Jim. Just a moment.” In the doctor’s absence, Kraal took the opportunity to obtain a hypospray of a highly potent drug…one lethal to Vulcans, and by the time McCoy returned, he was gone.

 

     As Baar-Spock left Vera’s quarters and about to enter his own, Kraal-Kirk confronted him in the corridor, and they began to argue.

     “You are not fit to be Maab’s consort,” Kraal practically screamed at the possessed Vulcan. “You are inferior, weak, inefficient—”

     “Do you actually believe Maab would choose you as her consort if I were not?” Baar interrupted.

     “Why shouldn’t she?”

     Baar laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

     Kraal whipped out the concealed hypospray and the possessed body of the Vulcan reacted too slowly, missing the chance to avoid what happened next. The drug administered, Spock’s body slumped to the floor.

     Although the Spraiter, Baar attempted to unincorporate from the affected form, he was rendered too weak, and as a green blur emerged slowly, it rapidly faded into nothingness. With the Spraiter thus removed, Spock’s body lay motionless…inert…lifeless, while the form of Kirk stalked down the corridor to Vera’s quarters.

     Minutes later, Spock regained consciousness. Evidently, the Spraiter had absorbed the largest dose of the deadly drug and allowing Spock’s body to fight off the effects of it remaining traces. The Vulcan closed his eyes for moment, continuing to fight the aftereffects, and rose, at last, following surreptitiously in Kirk’s direction.

 

     He found him, struggling with Vera in her quarters. As he came through the open door, Maab-Vera saw Spock and recognized immediately that he no longer was one of them. She broke the grasp of Kirk’s hands, her eyes glittering and narrowed like a hunting cougar’s.

     In the natural hissing voice of the Spraiters, she confronted him. “You have injured the lifeform occupied by Baar. You have killed Baar!” Baring her teeth, eyes flashing like golden daggers, she attacked Kraal, stabbing his belly with the jeweled dagger she’d worn since taking over Vera’s body.

     Kraal began to unincorporate from Kirk’s injured body and started for Spock’s, remembering with an angry scream he could not incorporate with the Vulcan’s because of the drug. There were no other healthy, undrugged, uninjured bodies nearby for him to incorporate with and survive.

     At the same time as Kraal’s form emerged from Kirk’s, Maab-Vera rushed from the room, avoiding Spock’s body and hissed at the touch of his hand upon her arms as he tried to restrain her. It was then, he experienced a severe electrical shock, jerking his hand away and noticed Vera’s lips curling in amusement as she pushed past him and out into the corridor.

     From where he lay sprawled on the slick floor, Kirk managed to speak, holding his hand over the wound in his abdomen to staunch the blood flowing from it profusely. “Go after her, Spock. I’ll be all right.” Already, Kraal’s true form, now orphaned, began to fade.

     A brief look at his commander, Spock turned and dashed after the form of his cousin, seeing her some distance ahead and out of sight around the curve of the corridor, the sound of her boot heels clicking on the deck as she ran.

 

     While Spock pursued her, Vera encountered Saal in the body of McCoy. He dared to touch her, and as she glared at him in distaste, he spoke almost frantically.

     “We must unincorporate and find other lifeforms.”

     “Why?” she asked, offended by his presumptive attitude.

     “I finished scanning the medical records of the aliens our group has incorporated. They have all been routinely sterilized.”

     “I see,” she replied sternly. “Signal the others to do so and meet me outside the vessel.”

     As Spock came around the curve of the circular corridor into Maab’s view, Saal-McCoy had just left, and she turned to face the Vulcan, hissing instinctively.

     “You need fear us no longer. Your lifeforms are unsuitable for our purposes of procreation, so we shall leave your associates unharmed. The man, Kirk, should recover from his wounds, now that Kraal is gone from him. So, farewell.”

 

     Unable to believe the ship rid of these aliens so easily, Spock remained dazed, but managed, “Farewell, Queen Maab.”

     The alien entity left Vera’s body, leaving it collapsed upon the hard deck floor.

     As Kirk staggered around the bend of the corridor, he came upon Vera’s inert body and Spock bending over it.

     “What happened, Spock?”

     The Vulcan had knelt beside Vera, attempting to revive her and held his hand tenderly to her cheek but removed it as Kirk approached. “The Spraiters have left the ship.”

      As he spoke Scotty came with three security men, phasers drawn. He, too, noticed the unconscious body of Lt. Hopton and Kirk’s injured and weakened condition, as well as the blood

oozing between his fingers, where they clutched his now incarmined gold shirt.

     “Captain? Mister Spock?”

     “Everything is back to normal,” said the Vulcan. “Please check on Sulu, McCoy and Uhura.”

     Gradually, Vera regained consciousness, and on opening her eyes fully, detected a look of relief on her cousin’s face, one quickly disguised.

     When he placed an arm under her back and helped her rise to a sitting position, she said, “I am uninjured, Spock.”

     “Yes, I can see you are, Cousin,” he said, standing, then left abruptly for the lift, seeming unable to tolerate her nearness.

     Kirk moved the now deserted Vera and assisted his ex-wife to her feet. In turn, she put an arm around him, after giving a cursory examination of his wound.

     As they supported each other to Sick Bay, Kirk made a verbal observation, as he followed Spock’s retreating form. “Yes, things are back to normal for certain.”

     “Indeed, they are, Jim, but I don’t condemn nor censure his behavior. Spock is confused, and these last days have been difficult for him, emotionally.

     “They have for me, as well,” said Kirk, regarding Vera tenderly, as she supported his weight with her decidedly strong arms.

     Ignoring his comment, she said, “Although there appears to be no serious bleeding, we best have your wound looked at.”

 

     When Spock arrived on the Bridge, he resumed the command chair, still struggling with the flood of emotions which possessed his body. He fought them, trying to solve the problem which now faced him with stoic logic. But there was no logical solution.

     He punched a button to Sick Bay.

     “Doctor McCoy, if Miss Hopton is there, have her report to the Bridge immediately.”

     “Are you out of your Vulcan mind, Spock?” came the reply. “You know what she’s been through these last days.”

     “I am quite aware, Doctor. However, she is part Vulcan, and I am certain physically able to resume her duties. Kindly inform her to report. Spock out.”

     Minutes later, Vera appeared on the Bridge and approached the chair where Spock sat, ignoring her arrival.

     “Lieutenant Commander Hopton, reporting as ordered, sir,” she said unfeeling.

     “I believe the scanners want monitoring, Miss Hopton.”

     “Yes, sir.” Stoically, she took her place at the Science Station. It never ceased to amaze her how her cousin could be so cool, so totally unemotional. After all--

     “Commander, what are your reading on the Spraiters,” asked Spock, interrupting her thoughts.

     “Approaching Alpha Three,” she reported, peering into the hooded viewer. “Low-level animal lifeforms with extremely short gestation. The Spraiters should be quite pleased with them for their purposes.”

      “I did not ask for comments nor individual opinions, Miss Hopton.”

     She turned in her chair, glaring at her cousin, who stared blankly at the central viewscreen.

     Unable to bear the atmosphere of the bridge any longer, Spock said, “Lieutenant Uhura, I am going to Sick Bay to check on the Captain’s condition. Mr. Scott, you will be in command until I return.”

     “I’m going with you,” said Vera, rising from her chair and approaching him.

     Spock opened his mouth to refuse her but changed his mind. After all, she and James Kirk once had a relationship he might never experience…they had shared a marriage. “Very well,” he answered then entered the turbo lift with her beside him.

 

     Vera kept her eyes on Spock’s profile. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to confront him with, in addition to those angry words she first spewed out on her first day here.

     “Why, Spock?” she finally said.

     “Why what, Cousin?” he returned, standing in his typical, unapproachable posture, arms crossed coolly over his chest.

     “Why do you continue to treat me with such irrelevance?”

     “As you know, we have differences which are irreconcilable.”

     “Why are they irreconcilable?”

     “Because you are what you are, and I am what I am.”

     She breathed out an audible gust of exasperated air. “I do not believe that, Spock. I have never believed it, and never shall.”

     The lift doors opened, and they proceeded to Sick Bay in silence.

 

     Upon their entrance there, McCoy informed them of Kirk’s condition. “He’ll be fine in a day or so, and until then can rest in his own quarters. Will you take him there, Vera? I want to check Spock over for any remaining effects of that drug.”

     “Certainly, Doctor. I shall be glad to do as you wish.” She placed an arm around Jim’s waist and helped him step off the examination table.

 

     Once in his quarters, she lowered James Kirk slowly onto his own bed and propped a few pillows behind his shoulders.

     “Sure you're okay, Vera?”

     “Quite. Is there anything you require before I leave?”

     “No. Vera, about you and Spock…”

     “I assure you, our relationship is back to normal.”

     “Normal?”

     “Yes, normal,” she repeated.

     “I suppose that means I’m going to have to put up with those deathly silences and avoidance behavior, again.”

     “Affirmative, but perhaps not for long.”

     “Explain.”

     “Jim,” she said, bending down and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “a woman has to have some secrets.” She vanished through the door, having once more evaded his questions.

 

     A few days later, Vera entered her quarters to find Spock sitting in her favorite chair. “I hardly expected to find you here,” she said.

     “There is an important matter we need to discuss.”

     “What would that be? You have made it quite obvious our relationship, at present, is anything but genial.” She paused, thinking then said, “Tell me, Spock, do you despise me simply because I bore your child?”

     He began to rise, sat back down then stood up and turned away. “I can think of no other woman I would have bear my children than you.”

     She went to him and touched his shoulder lightly. “Then why do you treat me so harshly, giving me menial task like washing out flasks and tubes in the lab and cleaning the floors and countertops, then ignore me to the point of rudeness?”

     “I have come to tell you, we cannot marry, despite my contract with T’Pring being annulled.”

     Vera dismissed his words as presumptive, since she had no intention of marrying him, anyway, but played along when he faced her and said, “The High Council and T’Pau will choose your mate very soon.”

     “Are you among the candidates?”

     He lowered his eyes. “I do not think so.”

     “Thus, these are our irreconcilable differences?”

     “Yes.”

     She turned from him, crossing the room. “When I was eight, you called me your princess. I thought it a nickname then, but you already knew my true parentage. Correct?”

     “I did.”

     “Then, when you returned to Vulcan seven years later, you kissed me for the first time.”

     “Your beauty was extremely disturbing.”

     “I’m surprised you don’t blame your actions then on being in _pon farr_ , since thereafter every time we met you were in that condition.”

      “Will you…assist me once more as you did on Earth? It shall be the last time I ask it, I promise.”

     Vera faced him, now fully her own adult self, not the awe-struck teenager who idolized her cousin fifteen years earlier. Back then, before he left, she promised to meet him every seven years to provide “accommodation,” a commitment he never confirmed in all these years, an appointment he never kept and never acknowledged.

     “I cannot. I have other commitments.”

     “Commitments?”      She noticed his brow wrinkled in puzzlement but refused to elaborate. Her relationship with the Romulan Tlasus was one secret she would never divulge, not even to Spock. Already Amanda and Sarek knew she’d given her heart to a man unknown to them, but if they’d told Spock, he seemed ignorant.

     “Yes, and besides, when you sought me out on Earth fifteen years ago, you knew you would not die if left ‘unattended’ so why? Why can’t you admit you cared for me, more than a cousin would, even then?”

     When Spock looked into her eyes, Vera knew he realized he couldn’t lie to here or evade her questions, and she penetrated his mind, delving deeply into his inner being.

     He half-turned away, uneasy. “Yes, I did. I left Vulcan to escape you, your presence, your disturbing presence. I did care deeply for you even when you were a small child, and that affection for you grew as you became a woman. Aware I could never have you, I tried to forget. But it was impossible.”

     Vera felt her eyes softening with Spock’s admission, but his words wouldn’t change her decision. With his obvious, soul-rending confession, she realized the enormity of his inner struggle. Spock continued to avoid her eyes, and she could understand why. He felt hopeless.

     Turning away, she said, “Spock, I need to be alone.”

     From behind her she heard, “Yes. I understand. We shall talk again soon.” And then he was gone.

 

     A few hours later, a knock sounded on the door of James Kirk’s quarters.

     “Come,” he said, voice elevated.

     It was Vera, who entered formally, posture erect, eyes riveted on a point above Kirk’s head.

     “Captain, I would like to request permission to transfer to another ship, preferably one outside this quadrant.”

     Kirk rose from his desk and took her by the shoulders. “For Heaven’s sake, why?

     “There are certain…relationship which exist…between…another officer and myself, which I feel will eventually interfere with our effectiveness.”

     With a gentle grip of her arm, he led Vera to one of the chairs and had her sit. “Vera, you’re not making any sense. Why don’t you just come out and say what you mean and drop all this official protocol.”

     She slumped, now at ease with her ex-husband. “The problem exists between the myself and Spock.”

     Kirk felt there she would say more, so waited patiently. He wasn’t disappointed.

     “Jim,” she said, at last, “I can’t be more specific without embarrassing myself and my cousin. I can only say there is something which happened many years ago that lies at the root of matters. I wish the transfer as soon as possible and will take any position available but must be off _The Enterprise_.”

     Kirk set his jaw, needing more answers. “Request denied until you can show me just reason. Do you think I don’t see the daily reports, Vera? Do you think I don’t see how Spock has treated you and assigned you tasks meant more for an ensign than a Lieutenant Commander?”

     When Vera remained silent, he continued, “You’re an important member of this crew and not easily replaced, which is why I requested your transfer here. Command want _The Enterprise_ to be the best-equipped, best-manned vessel in the Fleet and possibly the new flagship for the entire Starfleet. As to your problems with Spock, I’ll speak to him about altering his behavior.” He stood up straight and turned his back on her. “You are dismissed…Miss Hopton.”

     She left obediently without a work, and Kirk pressed the com button as the door whooshed closed behind her.

     “Mr. Spock, report to my quarters, on the double!”

     “Yes, sir,” he answered, and Kirk could hear the puzzlement in the First Officer’s normally calm voice.

  

     When Spock arrived a few minutes later, Kirk confronted him. “Did you know Vera planned to request a transfer?”

     The Vulcan folded his arms casually in front of his chest. “No, Jim, I did not, but admit under the circumstances, that would be the logical solution to her problem.”

      “Exactly what is this problem with the two of you, anyway?”

      Spock shifted his weight uneasily from one side to the other in what Kirk regarded as another uncharacteristic move. “I am not at liberty to divulge that information. However, if I were you, I would grant her request.”

     “But you’re not me,” replied Kirk, his anger growing, “and Command has directed no command officers are to be transferred without just cause for the next six months.”

      “Of course, the decision is yours, Captain,” said the Vulcan whose face remained unnaturally calm, more so than usual. “As I said, before, give her the transfer, Jim. I really have no need for an assistant, after all.”

       “You seemed agreeable enough until you found out the officer I picked was Vera. You personally approved her application and appointment as the best choice. If you disliked her, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

     “I was unaware Vera Hopton was my cousin, T’Pira. I never knew her by that name.”

     Kirk walked around the room, restless from the additional questions forming in his mind, then stopped and faced his friend.

     “What did happen between you two back then.

     A look of astonishment appeared on Spock’s indifferent face. “She has not told you?”

     “No.”

     Arms now at his sides, Spock sat and leaned forward, head downward. “I assumed she would have.” He looked up. “If I may speak in the strictest confidence, I believe my words will disclose the necessity Vera feels for transferring.”

     “Whatever you tell me is off-record.

     With a deep inhale, Spock began. “The problem started when T’Pira was a small child. You could say it actually culminated fifteen years ago, however.”

 

     A few hours later, Jim went to see his ex-wife and found her door open to allow more light into the room.

     “Vera?” he said on coming through the doorway.

     “Yes, Jim,” she said, her brush poised over shoulder of the man whose portrait she painted, which Kirk noticed was of Spock.

     “He told me the problem, and I’ve radioed your transfer request.”

     As if ignoring him, she continued applying a stroke of cobalt blue. “Thank you, Jim.”

     “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

     “He’s my kinsman, and it is, therefore, my duty to protect him from humiliation.”

     “Did you ever think sometimes you can protect a person too much?”

     She placed the brush into a jar of cleaning solution and walked away from him, wiping her hands on the rag attached to her gray painting smock.

     “I have appealed to the High Council and Matriarch T’Pau to consider Spock as candidate for my future mate. If it must be Vulcan, I can’t accept another."

      Kirk went to her and put his hands on her shoulder. “Or any male?”

     “Or any male,” she said, turning and smiling at him. “I do not wish to return to my former life nor the reputation I had before coming here. I realize it wasn’t a respectful one.”

     “No one believes those stories, Vera.”

     Without another word, she returned her attention to the painting, clearly ending the conversation.

 

_Personal log of Vera Hopton, Stardate Seveny-six-oh-seven, point oh-three._

_So much has happened these last days. Ship’s log will explain, although I have little memory of the events. As to the rest, there is much against me here, and with no chance at discussing them with “Uncle Lenny” because of an outbreak of Valerian flu, am forced to take action. Denied permission to assist the good doctor, despite the need, I continue to be assigned menial tasks, so have requested a transfer to another ship._

_Mixed feelings consume me, and now I’ve contacted Vulcan’s High Council with a request I once believed I’d never make. When, if a certain Romulan discovers this, he will doubt me even more. But each night I think of him and wonder about that night when I believed he visited me. Or was it a dream? I still don’t know. He says he will not share me, and I’ve no desire to share my body with any man but him. Yet, here I am, heir to the Vulcan Matriarchy and must do as they proclaim. Or must I? Dare I revolt? Dare I go against their command?_

_As soon as I receive new orders, I’ll contact a courier and send word to my one true love. Am thinking of sending him a message, as well. It’s been over two years since we last met, if my memories of a week ago are false, but oh, how I long for him._

Vera’s transfer arranged, Kirk once again entered her quarters, but this time she prepared her painting for transport and had already packed her few belongings.

     “Here’s your orders for the _Exeter_ , Quadrant Two, as Assistant Alien Medical Officer,” he said, handing her a disc which she promptly put in her flight pack. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a better posting and realize you haven’t been an assistant medical officer for years. Have you heard from the Council?”

      “Yes. They can’t consider Spock.”

     “Well, guess you still can’t fight City Hall, even on Vulcan. Are you ready to beam down to the base?”

     She looked about the room then nodded, whereupon they left, side by side.

 

     When they came into the Transporter Room, Spock was present. Already, she’d given a brief hug and goodbye to Leonard McCoy—a somewhat tearful one—and the others with whom she’d become friends in her brief time here. Once she mounted the platform, Spock approached her slowly, if not cautiously.

     “We will meet again, T’Pira,” he said softly, almost inaudibly.

     “No,” she replied. “I think not.”

     His eyes became liquid then cooled to ice, and he saluted her. “Peace and long life, Princess T’Pira of Vulcan.”

     “Live long and prosper, Spock, son of Sarek,” she replied in return.

     He advanced a step closer, reaching out the fingertips of one hand to touch hers. She lowered her head, fighting tears, and withdrawing her hand from Spock’s she spoke to the transporter operator, blinking back the waters of emotionalism as she did. “Ready, Mister Kyle.”

 

     Once settled into her temporary quarters at Starbase 15, Vera activated the signal on her ring and soon received a soft rap on her door.

     On the other side, stood a young female with a tray of food, which Vera took from her and began to turn, until the other said, “I hear _The Enterprise_ is faltering.”

     Somewhat taken aback at such an immediate response to her summons, but one prepared for the previous night, she placed the tray on a nearby table and picked up the silver disc there and handed it to the young woman, saying, “No, it is _The Exeter_ , and I hope this gets to the one I revere more than any.”

     The female nodded and turned, walking away. The door closed, Vera sat at the desk, staring at the food, pleading silently, _Forgive me, my love. Please forgive me._

     Aboard the _Enterprise,_ Kirk and Spock sat in the senior officer’s quarters having a private dinner with Leonard McCoy. Each man silent as he ate, they remembered the woman of the golden eyes and what she had meant to them. One remembered her fondly as his first love, a second recalled her with regret of the past, and the last knew this would not be the end of their friendship.

    

Continued in "When in Rome"

    

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

    

    


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